And the frail looking lady began to smile ...!

What was the most endearing image in India’s sensational win yesterday? No, there was no fat lady to sing at the end of the game, but there she was, a frail looking lady – must have been part of the ground staff, running in to just touch Sachin. She was there for a moment, gone the next. She was all smiles; the sort of smile that is pure and comes from the bottom of one’s heart. For all you know, she may not have known the game of cricket at all. Yet, something there made her joy know no bounds. I am sure; she would be telling her grand children that she had the good fortune of congratulating the master after he completed one of his finest innings, that, hold your breath, took India to victory in a test, and that too while chasing a mammoth score! So was the rest of the ground staff, who came and congratulated the man of the moment.

For a country and her people traumatized with the goings-on in Mumbai over the past few days, these smiles of unmitigated joy are needed in truckloads. Not to overcome the grief – it cannot be overcome, period. But then, to take our minds away from the fear psychosis and concern generated by the gruesome and brutal nature that a human mind can be turned into, to something that is nice, happy and endearing to a lot of people.

But then, not everyone is so fortunate. They do not know what they seem to be missing! Please God, help them understand that in this nation of under achievers, at least the cricket team is there as a pressure valve for so many of us!

Cry, my beloved country ... Cry!

There has been this churning feeling ever since yesterday morning, seeing the dastardly acts of terrorism on screen. The way our media has covered the whole 'story' - with kid gloves and absolute lack of maturity, is also very disturbing.

Father called me yesterday noon and his sense of concern was so apparent. He has visited Mumbai a few times and had been to the foyer of the Oberoi to meet his friend who used to work there, and also to see the hotel. My sense of desperation has been more tangible, given that I have lived in Mumbai for a few years and these were the symbols that one used to look up to, not from an aspirational view, but from a point of 'feel good'.

If I can have such an emotional string attached to the city that never sleeps and to the landmarks therein, imagine the scores of Mumbaikars and others who frequent these places. Also to ponder, if the high and the mighty can be laid so low, what happens to the common man. But then, oh yes, the common man in India, and especially in Mumbai, must have got used to terrorism by now.

And yes, we are such a 'soft' country. At least, we can cry ... and feel frustrated at what's going on ....!

Oh Captain, Our Dear Captain!

It is after a long hiatus that the column comments about a story. And oft has been the case, it is the India – Australia series, or rather, the end of it, that has prompted this. Well, not really. It is to say “Thanks” to our dear captain of old! The lovely Dada, or for the uninitiated – Prince of Kolkata or for the still cricket unaware people (like some close ones are) – Sourav Ganguly! Yes, the guy who used to appear on the Britannia ad – you know, some people are so ignorant …!

Sourav da, your remark that you were more disappointed with not scoring a century in the first innings than with doing a Bradmanesque stint in your last, is so very characteristic of you. But then, you played such an important role in your last test and the whole series. So, what if you did not get an opportunity to play a match saving innings like your bete noire … well, you were his adversary, not the other way round, I guess! You scored 3 runs more than Steve Waugh did on his last, and more importantly, India won the match and the series, something that most cricketers would just dream to achieve.

Your timing of the retirement was spot on, much like those caresses on the offside. And what redemption – to regain the Border-Gavaskar trophy at the very same ground …err the city that some say was the setting for the beginning of your downfall in your first essay, and in such an emphatic manner against the team that promised to play ‘new age’ cricket but was taught some age old wisdom by you guys – aptly named – the Fab Five, or as one channel put it yesterday – the league of extraordinary gentlemen!

As Siddharth Vaidyanathan lamented in his blog about the kind of role models that this school going generation would grow up to, I guess the previous generation grew up to soft people as their role models. Thanks to you all – Kumble, Dravid, Sachin, VVS and you for being the role models to our generation, soft where it mattered and hard on the cricket ground. And amongst them all, you gave us all the self-belief and helped us develop an attitude that helped us be proud of the little things that we did in our daily lives, without ever sounding arrogant.

And to see your animated gestures during the last few minutes of the match, captaining Team India once again, meant so much to so many of us. It was a specially endearing moment, to watch you smile when Dhoni walked with you asking you to take over the mantle one last time.

Thanks a lot … for all these years of great memories. Here’s to you … our dear captain from one of the millions of Indians … and among the few tens of thousands who came to the Chinnaswamy stadium in Bangalore to watch you play one last time in the first test of this series.

And thanks to our new captain for those small gestures yesterday that will make lots of parents look up to you as a good role model. Wah captain … our dear captain!

Why we love fights more than wins!

Well, the whole nation is agog with rumours of Team India packing it's bags prematurely from a tour down under and yes, how can "The column" remain silent at this critical juncture?!

To sum it all up, Australia lost a cricket fan. Yours truly was a passionate admirer of the Australian way of things - the "in your face" attitude so well brought to life in the Fosters ads (the famed Australian beer brand). So when the "pigeon" (the nickname for Glenn McGrath) used to scalp the little master Tendulkar after mouthing the choicest obscenities at him from close range, including the 'F' word (so often captured vividly on camera) on being struck for a four, I used to lament at how poor we are, when it comes to succumbing under pressure and not fighting it out! Well, that is it, right? We always love fights. How often have we lamented that our team gives in without a fight - "it's ok if we don't win, but at least we should have fought hard" is something we are wont to say, at the drop of a hat. Does this trait, so much Indian that other cultures will find it a bit alien, run in our blood?

As toddlers when the story of Mahabharata is told to us, Arjuna is usually the hero that kids want to emulate. But sometime, am not able to put a finger on the age, say, when one is between 5 and 10 years old, the question: "Which character in the Mahabharata would you like the most?" would elicit a reply: Abhimanyu, or Karna (the wronged one). (Well, this attraction and fascination to heroics that end in tragedies ... is it something peculiar to a blood variant that has the inscription - "from Kerala" or is it something that transcends the Aryan-Dravidian divide is something that I would like to know?!).

Maybe this hypothesis is the answer to why the whole country is up in arms in unison, demanding fair treatment, for we have been wronged. Not only that, but this has come in the face of stiff fight that 'Team India' gave to the strongest team in the world. And more, importantly, lost, in the process. If you step back and think for a moment, whether any of these issues - "integrity" of a certain captain nicknamed "Punter" by his own (!), the alleged racist taunt, the poor umpiring and so on, would have become such burning issues, had we stuck out for the remaining 8 minutes and saved the game? By the way, I cannot understand how on earth calling someone (who is so funny with his expressions and hairstyle!) a "monkey" is racist. After all, science tells us that Homo Sapiens descended from apes. But at the same time, mouthing the "b" word, the "f" word or whatever other 4 or x-letter word that has only one meaning irrespective of the culture and language, is perfectly alright and is within the limits of the "gentleman's game"! How ridiculous can one get!

So then, maybe it's better that we lost and that too fighting till the end and to the last man. For, had we drawn the match, that sweeping use of English verbiage "a bad day at the office for the umpires" (well, the ICC Chief had the gall to tell this!) would have figured tucked away in the inner pages of our media. Like our own epic heroes, we fought and in the end we still lost, and our obsessive media caught on to the story that they knew would find instant resonance with something deep within all of us.

And yes, read this to understand why I would not support the baggy green from now onwards, unlike what I had to write earlier ....